


Give Me Your Hands (Put Mine On You)

by ProsperDemeter



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Harry, Clubbing, M/M, PWP without Porn, Semi-Public Sex, The Author Regrets Everything, Top Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter
Summary: "Peter liked that he didn't sleep around. MJ had liked it too, when they were dating. Now they weren't, though, and MJ insisted that she was taking her best friend duties seriously by finding him someone to have mindless sex with before midterms."
Relationships: Harry Osborn/Peter Parker
Comments: 13
Kudos: 99





	Give Me Your Hands (Put Mine On You)

**Author's Note:**

> I regret this entire one shot 😂 
> 
> Title from Canyon by Joseph. 
> 
> Smut is w e i r d to write and that is all.

Peter didn't _hook up_ with people so the fact that MJ even thought she could get him to "work out the frustration" was incredibly… _weird._ Peter did relationships - he only slept with MJ, Gwen, that one guy Greg he had dated for a year and… well that was it. He wasn't the type of person to sleep around or to even "play the field" as MJ had put it with a nauseating wink when she dragged him out of the dorm and into the seedy club he was now stuck inhabiting. Peter _liked_ that he didn't sleep around. MJ had liked it too, when they were dating. Now they weren't, though, and MJ insisted that she was taking her best friend duties seriously by finding him someone to have mindless sex with before midterms. 

Peter didn't have the heart to tell her no. 

The club they were in - Cupid's Cup, a too small, too cheap, don't check IDs _dirty_ place - was almost always just a tad too close to _too packed_ for Peter to frequent it. But MJ loved it. She knew the bartender by name, knew more than a few of the regulars, and served there on weekends. It catered to the college crowd, halfway between Empire and NYU and Peter was only _too_ embarrassed to notice his Advanced Molecular Biology professor making doe eyes at someone he _knew_ was at the most nineteen years old. Still, the beer was cheap, the music was good and, for the most part, people assumed he came with MJ and left him alone. 

Peter really just wanted to go back to his dorm he shared with MJ - a senior apartment basically, as RAs they each had their own room, a little kitchen, a bathroom and a small living room that doubled as a dining room - and _sleep_ . He had been running on caffeine and study material for the past two weeks and his sleep schedule was all kinds of _fucked up_ . Normally Peter didn't even drink, he didn't like the taste and much preferred the control _not_ drinking awarded him. But MJ had ordered for him, gave him _the look_ and wandered off to the dance floor. His best friend was currently no where to be seen though and Peter gave her ten minutes before he swallowed down the rest of his beer and began the walk back to campus alone. 

Almost unconsciously his eyes wandered to the corner of the bar. He had noticed him right away, standing at just a hair taller than himself was the one guy Peter had been dreaming of since Freshman year. They had never really talked, not beyond a cordial _hello_ and introduction but Peter would catch a glimpse of him across campus sometimes and _freeze_ . He was the most attractive guy Peter had ever seen. His jawline was defined, his nose pointed upwards at the tip and painted with freckles that splattered across rosy cheeks. He had lips the color of cherries and eyes the color of freshly watered grass in the summer. His hair was the deepest shade of auburn Peter had ever seen, just a shade closer to _red_ than _brown_ and when he smiled it was like he had just shot an arrow into Peter's chest. Peter would never say _hello_ in a club to someone like _Harry Osborn_ no matter now many times MJ encouraged him to over the years. Even when they had been dating she had encouraged it. Sometimes Peter wondered if she always knew they weren't going to last while Peter tried to build a future around Them. 

Five minutes. 

Peter sighed and pushed the lukewarm bottle away. He was more than ready to call it a night when a voice stopped him. "Peter, right?" 

Were they talking to _him?_ People normally didn't talk to him. And certainly not at _clubs_. 

Peter turned and almost fell right off the bar stool. He choked on his own spit and brushed under the warm gaze of the very guy he had been stealing glances of all night. "That… that's me." He stammered and blushed some more. Thankfully, the club was dark enough for Harry not to really notice it. 

"Cool!" He smiled and it was only enough to show his top row of teeth before he leaned his hip against the counter beside Peter. Harry had to stand close if he wanted to be heard over the music that shook the ground and he did so almost _too_ confidently to be anything but a mask. He held a closed water bottle against the pale skin of his arm and when he tilted his head locks of dark auburn fell against his forehead. "I'm Harry. We took an intro to mythology class together in like Freshman year." 

"I… I know." They had a few mutual friends as well - MJ one of them. Peter was a biochemistry double major _and_ an RA, so he was constantly slammed with work. MJ was a theater major and Harry an art and business double major. Typically Peter and him wouldn't even run in the same circles. But they had both taken the same _horrible_ english credit freshman year and suffered through the class good enough to get a passing grade. And that should have been it for them. Peter should have given up on the pretty boy _then_ only he hadn't be able to stop seeking him out. 

They didn't talk much even then, but Peter was only too happy to blame the music. It gave him an excuse to stare and catalog the bumps and curves of Harry's face. His lips dipped in peaks and bows and it _had_ to be purposeful the way his tongue ran along them after every sip of his water. "No alcohol at a bar?" Peter said after a moment, leaning close enough he could almost taste the sweat on his skin. 

Harry turned and Peter didn't lean back quick enough to not make it awkward and obvious where his attention was. Peter wasn't always the most observant, but Harry wasn't _subtle_ with his long glance down at Peter's own mouth. "I… I don't drink." Harry visibly shook himself and smiled around the rim of his water bottle and Peter was struck by a courageous streak he so rarely felt. 

"Do you wanna dance?" Peter swallowed his own, last, almost desperate sip of his beer and slammed it hard on the counter top. 

Harry contemplated him, studied his face and came to his own conclusions after just a moment and a narrowing of his eyes. "Sure." He shrugged and it must have been the liquid courage that had Peter reaching down to snag his hand. Harry was warm where their hands touched and seemed to eagerly follow Peter out into the throng of bodies on the dance floor. 

The amount of people around them seemed to push them almost impossibly closer and Peter had to glance back more than once to be sure that he hadn't lost Harry in the crowd. It was too hot and Peter realized only once he pulled Harry to a stop that he didn't _actually_ know how to dance. No matter, though, because it seemed as though the people surrounding them were merely swaying and bopping to the thrum of the music without a care. Peter didn't really know where to put his hands so he only placed them where Harry did - drawn along to the small of his back. Harry, for his part, seemed less bothered by the crowd, his own arms winding along Peter's neck loosely. It started awkward, as did most things in Peter's life, but then Harry was laughing - the most _beautiful_ sound Peter had ever heard - and pressed in just a little bit closer. "Just… do what I do." He might have whispered it into Peter's ear but, regardless Peter felt gooseflesh travel up the back of his neck. 

Peter moved when Harry did, swayed much more awkwardly than he would have liked but, somehow managed to keep up. 

He lost himself to the music and the feel of hands on his skin. 

Peter came back to himself with the cold touch of stone, a set of teeth dragging against his pulse and the dizzying prospect of the fact that he was _actually going to do this_ . He had a fire roaring in the pit of his stomach and with his head tipped back and eyes closed he could almost feel the music still beating out in time with his heart. He didn't even know how they had gotten there - everything between the dance floor and back alley were hazy panting memories that Peter was sure would come back embarrass him later. He had lost MJ completely but when Harry did _that_ he couldn't find it in him to care. 

They were pressed almost impossibly close and Peter didn't really have any intentions of letting it go much farther than a makeout until Harry pushed even closer and they brushed together. He let out a breath - desperate and low - and slipped his leg between Harry's own two, bending the knee slightly and eliciting the response he hadn't even known he wanted to get. It was perhaps a little _too_ steamy for an alleyway but Peter didn't really have the thought process left to care. 

Harry's skin was hot where Peter touched, his hand sliding up under his shirt and pulling it out from where it had been tucked into his jeans. Peter's own button down was already undone and Peter roughly pulled Harry back into a wet kiss when his hands started tugging at the waistband of his jeans. Was he really going to do this? _Here_? Of all places? "Wait," Peter gasped to a stop and Harry listened almost immediately. 

When he looked at Peter his eyes were blown and hair strewn about in a way that made it _clear_ what exactly they had been about to do. It was enough for Peter to almost lose all resolve. "Not here." He said the words softly and with a nip at Harry's lower lip. His hips twitched involuntarily upwards and into Harry's own. Their groans matched as they pulled themselves from their lips. 

"Then _where_ ?" The way Harry said it reminded Peter of anything he had ever heard about the other man. Petulant, spoiled, a _brat_. He was a rich kid on a scholarship studying art and living on campus. He was used to getting what he wanted. 

And damn it Peter _wanted_ him. His jeans were too tight, Harry's tongue wouldn't stop lapping at the skin under his ear and Peter hadn't had sex in a _very_ long time. What was the harm in giving in? "You want this here?" Peter gasped even as Harry ground down. "You're sure?" 

"I want _you_ here." Harry confirmed and he sounded a little breathless himself, and he _felt_ more than a little interested. 

Okay then. 

Well… Peter didn't really need to hear anymore. 

Harry was incredibly easy to manipulate and he was almost too happy to switch their positions. He tasted as good as he looked and Peter didn't even need to work that hard at unbuttoning his pants and sliding a hand down to grip him. Harry gasped into Peter's mouth, swore against his lips, and Peter felt his leg shift, just a bit, to curl a little over the back of Peter's own. 

Peter was desperate but he was always more of a _visual_ kind of guy. He pulled back just enough to see Harry's eyes shut tight and dark eyelashes spread out over freckles. He observed the way Harry tilted his head back even farther against stone when Peter started stroking, and, as a contributor to the scientific method, was more than a little bit interested to see if he could elicit the _same_ reaction by doing the same motion. It worked and Harry was _gorgeous_ even pushed up against stone and falling apart. It was all a little bit unreal but Peter could feel the other man's nails digging into his back hard enough to know that it _was_ real. 

He picked up the pace and he would have been happy to finish it that way, listening to the whine that pulled itself out of Harry's throat between gusts of air, only Harry seemed unwilling to wait. " _Please_ ." Peter didn't think he had ever heard that word before, not the way Harry said it or the way Harry gripped at his _own_ erection through his pants. 

" _Fuck_ ." Peter didn't swear a lot, he had never even sworn in bed, but Harry was worth the slip up. He didn't even have to say anything else, because Harry was already turning around, he _already_ had his pants down around his ankles and ass out on display. He had freckles there too, Peter noticed with the same sort of mind that caught sight of birds on his walk between classes. "Do you?" 

"Back pocket." Peter bent down, ignored the way his own cock throbbed in hello, and grabbed the plastic wrapping out of its hiding place. He was moving sloppily but couldn't find it in him to care much, one hand wrapping around himself while he held the condom between his teeth, and the other tracing a circle around Harry's hole. He saw more than heard Harry's sharp inhale before he pushed in a finger and his own eyes rolled back a little bit at the warmth and _pressure_ that he felt around the knuckle. 

He made quick work of it - they _were_ in public - and settled the latex over himself before pushing his chest against Harry's back and switching out his fingers for his cock. " _Shit_ ." He didn't know which one of them said it, but he did know that it was Harry's hand that slapped at the wall. He was tight even after a sloppy prepping and Peter probably should have spent more time on that but, really, Harry had seemed incredibly impatient by the way he was pushing himself back on Peter's fingers. Peter held him by the hips, steady and strong and didn't move until he was told to, Harry's voice wrecked and broken and his body _hot_ around Peter's. This close Peter could hear every gasp that he made, could feel every tremor that started in his back and respond with his own. He kept one hand working up and down Harry's own erection and the other slid up over his neck to pull his head back so Peter could share sloppy kisses with him. 

It was almost _too quick_ but, then again, so had the whole night. Peter could feel his knees quaking, could feel the heat slowly build up pressure against his belly. Harry came first, Peter's name on his lips and his release stifled against Peter's mouth and with the tension of his muscles around Peter came _his_ release. Peter gasped it against the skin of Harry's neck, bit it into his skin and should maybe have been careful not to push him even harder into the brick but once it was done it was done. 

They stayed how they were for a while, panting and coming down from their own highs, Peter's heart beating like a jackhammer in his chest. When Harry turned around it was with a grimace and he winced when he wiggled his hips to get back into his pants. He didn't let go of Peter's shoulder, though and once he was back standing upright he smiled that devastating smile of his and ran his tongue along the line of Peter's lips. "You're going to make me do that again." Peter groaned and tied off the used condom, unsure where exactly to tuck it before spotting a trash can by the door they had snuck out of. 

"That's kinda the plan." Harry said with a wink as he leaned his entire weight back on the wall. 

Peter rolled his eyes and closed the lid of the trash. Would it be so bad, he thought, to do it again? They were young and Harry was _willing_ (and so was Peter). "Let me take you home." Peter decided, his fingers curled into Harry's belt loops and eyes stuck on red bruised lips. 

"Take me home or _take me home_ , Parker? There's an important distinction there." 

"How about _shut you up_." 

"Is that a promise?" 

Peter smirked and felt his cock jump at the devilish smile Harry sent in return. "Why don't you find out?" Peter wasn't usually bold but it had gotten him this far. Why not see where else it would take him? 

* * *

It was three months later that MJ proclaimed Peter a lost cause. "A one night stand isn't supposed to end in a _relationship_ Peter!" 

Peter himself simply shrugged and told her to be quiet, Harry was still sleeping and Peter had a paper due in two hours that he needed to put the finishing touches on. "Hopeless." She declared him, yet kissed his cheek anyway. "And _loud_." 

"Why are you listening?" 

"Why are you two _shouting_?" 

**Author's Note:**

> Why are you still here? This is so bad, get out of here. Go read something quality. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂


End file.
